


Heaven Help Us

by BeignetBenny



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Historical Hetalia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-21
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-08 04:51:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5484095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeignetBenny/pseuds/BeignetBenny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They didn’t expect a second war. No one did. Thirteen years before was what they thought was the great war. The only world war. America thought it started at the bombing of Pearl Harbor. France only remembers it as Germany’s army marching towards his home. With China, it was Japan coming in, guns blazing. But Germany. It snuck up on him. He didn’t even know what he had done until it was too late.<br/>Time keeps on slipping away and we haven't learned. So in the end now what have we gained?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven Help Us

**Author's Note:**

> This is the big Hetalia project that I've been talking about for a while on my personal (beignetbenny) and hetalia (oneforthehistxrybooks) tumblrs. This will be updated sporadically, but the chapters will be long. I've been studying World War 2 for about three years now, despite this, there may be some historical inaccuracies to keep the story flowing. Also, there will be use of other languages, but only ones that I am familiar with. If you have corrections, that would be wonderful.

_Berlin, 1936_

It was August 1936 when he felt himself falling. The wind ripping through his hair, the chill scraping at his unclothed body. His eyes were blown wide and tears streamed out. He shouted, but no sound came out. No words. He couldn’t get help. Yet, he felt that even if he could have made noise, no one would be able to help. Others fell with him.

Gilbert was to his left, falling limply, eyes rolled to the back of his head. He wore a military uniform, badges and awards pinned to his chest. Roderich was at his right. His cheeks were sunken in, and he looked almost drained. But, his eyes were open and looking around. Above him was Feliciano, pulled skywards by a parachute with a language painted on it that he couldn’t translate at the speed he was falling at. Below was Kiku Honda, looking worse than his brother had. His uniform was bloodstained, his eyes dead, and mouth hung open.

Ludwig’s eyes opened slowly when he sensed a presence in his room. He stared at the ceiling, waiting for another sound. When he was, instead, greeted with a familiar snicker, he sighed to himself and sat up. “You’re being juvenile.”

“And you were snoring.” Gilbert smiled at him, but his smile immediately faded when he met his brother’s glance. “Nightmare?” He said, his tone changing from joking to serious.

Ludwig ran a hand through his blonde hair, trying to make it look more presentable. “Is it that obvious?”

Gilbert nodded “Your eyes are wide and bloodshot. It was the falling one again, wasn’t it?” Ludwig didn’t need to answer.

“Get ready,” Gilbert continued, tossing clothes onto the bed. “Don’t be late to your own olympics.”

Ludwig pressed his cold fingers to his eyes, an attempt to rid himself of the only people he loved dying. It was just a dream.

The same dream he had been having for three years.

Although the dream was so familiar, and still so fresh in his mind, he couldn’t remember what would happen next. Ludwig remembers having slept longer and following through with the rest of the dream. Yet, what he didn’t remember was if he hit the ground in the end or was saved.

“ _Deutschland! Mak mal to_!” His brother’s voice snatached him out of his daze. He stood up from his bed and began to get ready. Ludwig climbed into the shower and let the hot water run over him. Despite each burning drop hitting his back, he still shivered. The thought of the dream wouldn’t leave him. Gilbert’s limp body, Roderich’s fearful look in his eyes, and then there was Feliciano.

God, it had been far too long. Their distance was for the best though. After the Great War, they thought better than to even enter the other’s country. The Triple Alliance was practically destroyed. Roderich and Elizabeta weren’t even quite sure how to react around him anymore. Ludwig should have been angry with Feliciano for breaking the alliance, but in a way he understood. What was agreed, was that they would only be defensive. They wouldn’t attack unless being attacked. The last time they had seen each other, Ludwig had just said that it was a war. And that wars get out of hand. Italy more than any country could understand that. Feliciano only shook his head and apologized for what had happened, but he wouldn’t regret a single thing he did. In the end, he had been on the winning side. Winners don’t have regrets. They don’t need to think they would do something to reach higher. They had already reached the top.

He got out of the stream of hot water and wrapped a towel around his waist. Careful not to step off of the mats on the ground so it wouldn’t really be an issue later. His uniform hung on the door. Each crease pressed, each medal shined, with the hat hanging off of the door knob. People would accept nothing but utter perfection from him. Especially his boss. Ludwig worked under a very charismatic man. His speeches made thousands come together, and his charm helped as well.

Adolf Hitler. Very odd, Gilbert had made a joke. Comparing him to a British actor. Ludwig quickly put the comment down, but his brother wouldn’t stop mentioning it. At least until he learned his boss’ idea. A common enemy sounded like a fantastic idea to Ludwig. But as soon as he had told Gilbert about it, his brother’s smile faded. He became more entranced with the bubbles floating to the top of his beer than the rest of their surroundings.

_“Russia did the same thing,” He had said in a low voice. “Except he just sent them all to Poland. What you’re doing is-”_

_“What we’re doing.” Ludwig remembered adding to his brother’s comments._

_“What you’re making me do is not going to turn out nice. I’m centuries older than you. You’re memory barely reaches to anything before 1871. I get it, we’re just the nations, but you can fight it. Here’s some wisdom, from your big brother to you. Never let majority rules ever change the way you think. It’s how most nations fall.”_

_“And our bosses? What about them?”_

_Gilbert had sighed and put his drink to the side before pulling out his wallet and fingering through the bills. “When you have the chance, ask France about his revolution.”_

_China, 1937_

The air was made of sulfur and his lungs were filled with fire. His skin felt as if it was boiling off his bones, but he wouldn’t risk moving.

Yao kept his eyes on the window, not willing to fully walk out to see the carnage that had been brought upon his people. The screaming rang in his ears along sighed gunshots. Blood splattered the ground and he was doing everything he could to not vomit. His heart ached with every cry, bones cracked with every crackle of fire. Kiku and his army was relentless. The terror had been going on for days, and no one could do anything to stop him. No one could even form words, only stare in shock at the window.

Li Xiao sat next to him, breath labored and his head pressed against the cool wall. A concentrated wince on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Yao risked a whisper

“I shouldn’t be here,” He whispered. “This shouldn’t be happening to me.”

“War affects everyone.”

“But I’m not you. I’m not apart of you. And it’s Japan, why would he ever do this to us?”

“He’s angry.”

“At us? What the hell did we do? And, I don’t want one of your cryptic two word answers or some ancient proverb, okay?”

Yao shook his head. “Didn’t Britain teach you to respect your elders?”

Another bomb, Yao moved farther away from the window, still not risking their position. He prayed underneath his breath, hoping something would take that terror away from them.

 

 

_Austria, 1938_

 

The people cheered for the troops as they marched into the city, but Roderich knew better than to celebrate. The excited shouts coming from outside his home made his ears hurt, and he never quite understood why they would be so excited about Germany marching in. Most were old enough, they knew full well what happened last time.

Then again, he was on his side at the time.

Roderich wasn’t ready to lose himself, lose his people, to Germany. He never would be. His bosses had been the ones to insist, saying that it was what he should have been wanting this hole time.

Holy Rome had the same ambitions that Germany had carried. He marched away from Austria’s home centuries ago, only to come back practically faded. Wishing for another chance. If Roderich was honest with himself, he would have turned Germany away in seconds. No second or third chances. But his people… They needed all the help they could get. He needed to convince himself that what was happening was just an alliance. Like the time before. If he just keeps thinking it, he’ll start to believe it.

“Herr Österreich?” Roderich turned around, to see a young blond boy with bright blue eyes looking up at him. “Herr Deutschland ist-”

He waved him off with a simple motion of his hand. The child nodded and smiled, all gap toothed, before leaving the room.

Heavy footsteps neared the door, and Roderich’s heart began to beat up in his throat. He sighed, an attempt to calm himself, sat down in a large arm chair near the window, and began to pour a small cup of tea to occupy himself. Ignoring the tremors that began in his hand.

“Your boy took quite an interest with me.” Roderich glanced up at his adversary over his cup. “And my boss took an interest in him.”

“Of course he took interest, he looks exactly like you. Blonde hair, blue eyes. He’ll be the perfect Hitler Youth in a few years.”

“Is that why you have him work for you?”

“I have him work for me because his father wasn’t as lucky with the looks.”

For a moment, Germany was quiet. Roderich took that as a sign to continue speaking. “Before you tell me exactly what the verdict was, would you like some tea?”

Reluctantly, Germany took a few steps over towards him and sat across. He took his hat off and sat it onto the coffee table between them. A sign of respect. Yet, he didn’t take the cup or even fully meet Roderich’s eyes. “This is for the best, Roderich.”

“Don’t call me that.” Roderich said quickly, setting his cup onto its saucer. “What we have here, is still very much militaristic. I’d prefer Austria in this case.”

“Very well, Austria,” Germany reached his hand to his cap and ran a hand along it. “I’m going to assume you already know the result.”

He nodded solemnly. “I might as well get fitted for my Schutzstaffel uniform now.”

“You should be happy to be apart of the German Empire. Just like how you made me join you at one point.”

“You’re remembering.” Roderich hummed into his drink. “No one told me.”

“I don’t remember details. Like faces, or what I actually did.”

“Have you told Italy of this?”

For a short moment, Germany’s hard exterior softened. Only to harden once more seconds later. “I haven’t spoken to him since the World War.”

“Well, that’s best for all involved.”

“Despite me not remembering details” Germany stated, finally meeting Roderich’s eyes. “I do know what I was and am capable of.”

“Those don’t sound like your words.” Roderich commented before standing from his seat. “The Germany I know wouldn’t have-”

“Ther Germany you know died a long time ago, Austria.” Germany said, standing up slowly as well. He adjusted his jacket and straightened his hat once more. “I’ll give you time to swallow this. What we asked for was simple. You’re apart of me, and you just offer your support.”

“That doesn’t sound difficult.”

“I have eyes everywhere, Austria. One slip and I may need to use force.” He tilted his head to the side. “To prove a point of course.”

“I already said I agreed, there’s no need for threats.”

He nodded his head and pulled his cap back on his head before turning around to leave. Before he fully exited the room, he spoke over his shoulder. “One word of this to Feliciano and he leaves.”

“Wouldn’t that be a good enough sign to not follow through with any of this?”

“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

_New York City, 1938_

“Smile for the camera, Al!” Alfred felt himself blink at the flash, but the photographer didn’t seem to mind. He thanked the county, before running off to another group of people and taking more pictures. He chuckled into his beer bottle and shook his head in awe. Ever since the world war, the citizens insisted on having party after party. Alfred found himself in a different city every night. Despite all the places that was apart of his home, New York City was always the best. The people’s energy and the fires in their eyes always made Alfred feel so much better. Despite what Britain kept hammering him about. Even his own ambassadors had started commenting on what had been happening. But Alfred swore, to his people and to himself, that he wasn’t going to bother with Europe anymore. He was still reveling in winning the war, his entire country was. He wasn’t willing to ruin his people’s spirit with an oncoming war, that doesn’t even affect them in any way.

“Hey, Al?” Alfred turned around to see a girl with light blonde hair with a red clip, holding some of the stray waves back.

He smiled, recognizing her immediately. “Amelia! long time no see! Do you need me for something?”

She nodded and made a small motion with her head towards the door. “Someone wants to see you.”

He hesitated. “Who? Can they wait?”

“Well, he’s stubborn as all hell. So probably. Doesn’t mean he’s going to like it though.” Amelia shrugged. “Especially when he knows that you’re just in here drinking away.”

He looked towards the door, wondering who could possibly be so important to interrupt him while in a moment of celebration? “If anyone asks where I am, just say that I’m handling some business, okay?”

“But the people know who you are,” she added. “They’ll start to worry that something’s happening.”

“Then just say I’m off getting another drink. Just distract them.”

She nodded. “I’m on it, sir.”

Alfred nodded and began to wade through the crowd to get to the door. A few people had stopped him, asking for a picture or an autograph, but he forced a small smile and said that he’d have to find  them some other time. When he finally made it out, the chilly air hit him like a wall. He shivered as he pulled his coat tighter around himself.

“Note to self,” He mumbled under his breath. “Never go from Los Angeles to New York. Worst idea.”

“Trust me, you’ve had many a worse idea than that.” Alfred turned around quickly at the sudden new voice.  It took a moment for the new accent to register with him, but as soon as it did, he rolled his eyes.

“What the hell, Arthur? I was about to break your fucking arm.”

Arthur scoffed at him and walked closer. “Please, you wouldn’t have even been able to break my little finger.”

“You underestimate me, Britain.”

“And you underestimate me.”

It was quiet between them for a few seconds. Yet, it was comfortable. Alfred found himself scanning Arthur. It was just something simple of course. Dark slacks and a white dress shirt tucked in.

Arthur noticed Alfred’s staring and shook his head. “Not this time, okay Alfred?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that there will be absolutely nothing between us this war. Do you understand?”

“I never said-”

“No, but you’re being rather obvious.” Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “Just don’t look at me like that. In fact, I shouldn’t even be using your name at this point. I’m here because…” He stopped himself and looked down. Alfred noticed a small blush creep up on his face.

“What?” Alfred pressed, stepping closer so that they were only inches apart.

Arthur gave him a gentle shove and took a few steps back. “Before you say it, this isn’t me begging. I don’t beg. But, both France and I’s bosses have insisted we get your help sooner rather than later.”

Al shook his head, looking back at the door to the party. Music pounded through. “You didn’t want me there last time.”

“But we wouldn’t have won without you or Italy, we know that much. And Italy’s boss has already chosen his side. If another war does begin, we’d like you to be on ours.”

“And what happens if I say no?”

“The choice is still yours, but I’m not going to be the one insisting any longer.” Arthur gave a small shrug and buried his hands in his pockets. It was then that Alfred noticed that Arthur was far more pale than usual. His skin almost translucent. “Im sure your childlike optimism gives hope to many of your citizens, but you should really begin to prepare for the worst. All that glitters is not gold, my friend.”

**Author's Note:**

> Deutschland! Mak mal to - "Germany, hurry up" In Low German


End file.
